The Dinner
by Braycat
Summary: Trip Tucker gets to enjoy his dream meal after nearly dying of heat stroke in Desert Crossing but Archer still has some issues to work out.


"THE DINNER" by Braycat  
  
Rated PG Feedback always welcome at braycat@yahoo.com  
  
Trip Tucker and Jonathan Archer are owned by Paramount and Starfleet, but they can't possibly appreciate them the way we do.  
  
Set shortly after Dessert Crossing. DC spoilers. Tucker, Archer, Chef and everyone else on Enterprise are owned by Paramount and Starfleet, not me. Too bad.  
  
  
  
Chef knew he was a particular man. He had laid down a canon of law that no one with an ounce of sense would ever dare to violate, and the number one rule was that he didn't like to be bothered in his kitchen when he was creating. So it came as no surprise that Chef was predictably annoyed when he heard the door to his kitchen slide open one afternoon.  
  
The cook took in a deep breath, summoning up the energy needed to chew the head off of this brazen intruder, but the words of condemnation died in his throat when the captain walked in. Chef wasn't usually willing to make exceptions to his edicts, even for the captain, but one glance at Jonathan Archer was enough to still the cook's protest cold.  
  
It was obvious that the captain was still suffering from his exposure to the desert sands. What little patches of Archer's skin that weren't peeling had blossomed into a bright red hue and his cheeks and lips were swollen. Literally Archer looked like he was dead on his feet. "I'm sorry to bother you when you're cooking..." Even the captain's throat croaked when he talked. "I know you don't like anybody in here..."  
  
'No, no, Captain. You are welcome here anytime." Worried that Archer would collapse right then and there, the cook gestured for the captain to sit down before he fell down. "How can I help you?"  
  
Archer gratefully perched himself on a kitchen stool. "I don't know if you heard this or not." the captain said, well aware that Chef was rarely interested in anything happening outside of his kitchen. ". but Commander Tucker and I ran into some problems out in that desert."  
  
"Yes sir, I know." Chef happened to be walking by the launch bay right after the shuttlepod docked and he saw Dr. Phlox frantically working on Commander Tucker while they wheeled him to sickbay. The commander didn't look very good. Neither did the captain as he followed behind the gurney. "I understand that Commander Tucker is going to be all right." Chef said, trying to cheer the captain up.  
  
As intended that brought a small smile to Archer's face. "He's going to be fine." Then the captain gave the Chef an odd little look. "In a way, you're to thank for that."  
  
"Me?" While Chef knew he had a positive impact on the crew via their stomachs, his kitchen was nowhere near the burning sands that almost claimed the commander's life. "How could I have possibly done anything to save Commander Tucker?"  
  
"Trip had gotten a fever and I was doing everything I could to keep him awake and keep his mind going, knowing full well if he fell asleep then he would probably slip into a coma and die. I managed to salvage some water and boil away the contaminants, but it was only tepid at best and we had no food."  
  
It didn't take much for Chef to picture the scene. "It must have been awful."  
  
"It was." The memories were still fresh and vivid in Archer's mind. "Trip was so hungry and I would have given anything to have something for him to eat, but there was nothing. Desperate, I tried to get Trip to focus on the next best thing and made him describe his dream meal to me. At the time neither of us knew if he would live long enough..." The captain's voice broke for a moment and he had to clear it before he could continue. "If he would live long enough to eat it, but thinking about it kept him going for awhile." When Archer looked at the cook it actually seemed like he was a little embarrassed. The captain wasn't used to asking favors, especially from someone as temperamental as Chef but he had to, for Trip's sake. "I know you don't like anyone messing with your menu plans, but if you wouldn't mind making an exception this time..."  
  
"Of course, Captain." Chef broke in. "It would be no problem. I'd be happy make whatever you would like."  
  
"Thanks." Archer handed Chef a padd. "Here's what he wants."  
  
Chef quickly glanced at the menu. The cook wasn't surprised to see that Tucker's country boy tastes favored the staples. Prime rib, mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, broccoli and pecan pie. All quite simple. "We have all of these foods in stock. I guarantee you Captain that this meal will be absolutely no trouble to prepare at all."  
  
"Glad to hear it." Fighting his body's inertia Archer got to his feet. "Dr. Phlox is going to release Trip in a day or two. I'll let you know when he's well enough to really enjoy this meal."  
  
"I can have it ready for you whenever you like." Chef assured him. The captain thanked the cook and as Archer left Chef noted that he had more of a spring in his step then when he arrived.  
  
When the captain was gone Chef sagged back against the counter. He knew he had a positive impact on the crew, but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he would ever save a life! Chef vowed at that moment to make Tucker's meal the best that he had ever tasted.  
  
**********  
  
Laughter filled the captain's tiny dining room. One reason the volume level was so boisterous was that there were more revelers present that night. Table extenders had been added to accommodate six rather than the usual four so Malcolm, Hoshi and Travis could join T'Pol and the captain in celebrating Trip's safe recovery from the ravages of the desert.  
  
And Trip had recovered. Archer had never seen the engineer so animated. Tucker had happily plowed through his prime rib, potatoes and the broccoli in record time, cheerfully savoring every bite. It was obvious to John that Trip was simply relishing the fact that he was still alive to enjoy the meal.  
  
Tucker was also taking great pleasure in relaying their desert adventure to the others, enhancing his stature to Herculean proportions with every telling, thereby leaving everyone dissolved in laughter at his Arabian tales. "So the cap'n here promised me that we wouldn't hafta eat any snake meat an' no sooner were we down on the sand then we were each presented with a bowl of a delicacy called blood soup!"  
  
"Ick." Hoshi wrinkled her nose, just imagining the smell. "That sounds awful."  
  
"That wasn't the worst of it." Trip was really getting into the story now. "I noticed there were a bunch of little chunks floating in the brine and like an' idiot I had to go an' ask what they were."  
  
"I shudder to think." Malcolm said before he actually shuddered.  
  
Now Trip knew darn well that Malcolm was making fun of him, so he waited until the armory officer had his mouth full of pecan pie before he answered. "Zobral called them 'essence of the male'!"  
  
Malcolm choked, accidentally spewing bits of pie across the table and everyone erupted in laughter. Everyone, Tucker noted, except Jonathan Archer. The captain hadn't said much during dinner, content to mainly watch the engineer enjoy himself, but obviously he had something on his mind. Trip had a pretty good idea what it was, but he couldn't call Archer on it with all these people around, he'd have to wait until later.  
  
So Trip settled for turning his attention back to the party. Malcolm had recovered from his surprise and was frantically covering up the traces of his dessert with his napkin. The armory officer just hated a mess. "Very funny."  
  
Trip shrugged. "You asked."  
  
"That I did." Malcolm knew Trip was teasing him and was glad for it. Tucker's gentle humor was something he nearly lost to the desert sands, and the thought was sobering. "You know Trip, sometimes it's difficult to put up with your sophomoric attempts at humor, but I can tell you now that life on Enterprise would be sorely bland without you to liven things up." Trip started to blush at the praise, but Malcolm wasn't finished. He raised his glass of wine. "I would like to propose a toast, to Commander Charles Tucker the Third. May we hear your bad jokes again and again, for many more years to come."  
  
"Here, here." Everyone joined in, and glasses clinked around the table. A part of Trip was embarrassed at being the center of all this attention, but most of him was pleased to learn that he was so warmly received by his shipmates.  
  
As the evening wound down Jonathan Archer silently got up from his chair and stared out the window at the display of stars outside. The others obviously didn't think anything of it but Trip did. The engineer deliberately stayed behind as his friends said their goodnights and it wasn't long before he and Archer were totally alone.  
  
They both just sat there, saying nothing for a few minutes, until the long silence got to be too much for Trip. "It wasn't your fault, you know."  
  
"The hell it wasn't!" They both knew exactly what this conversation was about. Archer rounded on Tucker, his anger and frustration flowing out of his every pore. "Let's count off the many reasons why this was exactly my fault. One." Archer held up a finger. "You flat out told me that you didn't want to go to a desert. You said the heat and the dry air just sucked the life out of you. You warned me that you could get hurt and I just ignored you. I even went so far as to lay a guilt trip on you in order to coerce you into going down to that planet with me when I knew damn well that you really didn't want to."  
  
Trip opened his mouth to say something but Archer forestalled him by holding up another finger. "Two. Once we were down in that 'hotter than hell' heat we had to play in that game of Geskana. I let you run around, banging up half a dozen of your ribs in the process, and let you over exert yourself for no important reason. Totally ignoring the fact that you were depleting your reserves over a stupid game, and never even having enough imagination to consider the possibility that we could end up in trouble later."  
  
Archer paused to see if Trip was going to try to interrupt him again but Tucker just kept his mouth shut. He'd let the captain say his piece before even beginning to talk him out of the mind set he was in.  
  
Seeing that he was free to continue Archer held up another finger. "And the third reason, which is the worst one of all, is that none of this would have happened if I hadn't freed those Suliban prisoners." Archer lowered his hand and started to pace. "When will I learn to keep my nose out of other people's business."  
  
Tucker could keep quiet no longer. "You're not an interferin' busybody. You were trying to help those people."  
  
Archer froze in mid step, then slowly turned to face Tucker. "Helping those people nearly got you killed. Is that supposed to be a price that I'm willing to pay?"  
  
The question was rhetorical since the answer in Archer's mind, was so obviously not. Trip thought long and hard for a few seconds, wondering how to word his reply. He was never much good on the debating team back in high school, but he did learn a thing or two and Trip had the feeling that he was going to have to put on the best performance of his life if he was going to win this particular argument.  
  
"Let's go through these one at a time." Trip help up one finger just like Archer did. "Number one. You didn't force me to go anywhere. If I didn't really wanna go with you I wouldn't have. Okay, it's true that I don't like hot air, an' the desert isn't my first choice for a vacation, but we don't get enough time to relax on board Enterprise an' that's a fact. Just getting away from the ship was well worth spending a few hours in a desert hot box." Trip's voice firmed and hardened. He intended to get the meaning of his message across to Archer with no mistakes or misunderstandings. "You didn't force me to go anywhere. You've gotta believe that."  
  
The captain held Trip's gaze for a few seconds, then broke away, turning back to the window. Okay, maybe he did believe that Trip didn't blame him for that one, but there were so many other areas where his guilt was so obviously clear. "All right. I guess I didn't compel you to go down there against your will, but that doesn't mean that I'm still not responsible."  
  
"Are you talking about that stupid Geskana game again?" Trip asked, moving onto guilt topic number two. "If you recall I was the first one to volunteer to play before even you did, an' Zobral was right about one thing, that kinda game has a real appeal to men like us. You know we both can't turn back from a challenge. Besides, it was kinda fun."  
  
The captain had to admit that he'd enjoyed the game. So much so that he was thinking of teaching it to other members of the crew, so they could play it on their next shore leave. Assuming that planet had a more reasonable temperature scale that was. Which reminded Archer that he wasn't totally off of the hook as far as issue number two went. "Still, I should have anticipated trouble. Kept you from depleting your reserves, just in case."  
  
"You didn't know Zobral was a terrorist. He looked like a straight up guy." Trip countered. "Just like you didn't know that the Andorians, who started out by takin' Vulcan hostages, ended up bein' a group of decent people after all." Trip moved deeply into topic three. He was either going to win or lose his debate right here and right now. "Listen, Cap'n. The whole reason we're out here is to meet new people. You can't help but know that some of them aren't gonna turn out friendly, an' there's no guide book to lead the way. You have just gotta go with your gut an' let yourself trust. Freein' those Suliban prisoners was the right move to make an' there was no way you coulda anticipated Zobral's reaction to it. You've just gotta trust your conscience, Cap'n because we do."  
  
For the first time since the conversation started Archer deliberately met Trip's gaze. He knew the engineer was trying to make an important point, but he wasn't sure what it was. "What are you getting at, Trip?"  
  
"Every member of this crew chose to be on this ship for one, overwhelming reason. To serve under your command." Archer made to speak, but this time it was Trip who wouldn't let him talk. "Now I'm not sayin' that they still wouldn'ta come out here if Starfleet gave Enterprise to Duvall, or any other captain they hadta choose from, but I don't think the crew would have followed them as totally as they do you. We trust your instinct, Cap'n. Meetin' up with alien species that none of us have ever heard of has gotta be the hardest job in this universe. We know that the first contacts you make may not always turn out right, or that some unforeseen circumstances may crop up after the fact, but the bottom line Cap'n is that we trust you to do the right thing. Even if it ends up gettin' us killed."  
  
Trip checked to see if Archer was still paying attention to him. The engineer was getting down to the crux of his argument and he didn't want to lose the captain's attention now, but he didn't have to worry. Archer was hanging onto every word. "I once told you that every member of this crew thought that this mission was worth the risk, and you know why?" The captain had an inkling but he shook his head anyway. He wanted to hear what Trip would say. "Because we're a part of history. A history that you're makin' with every light-year."  
  
Archer's heart lurched when he heard Trip use that phrase. Making history was the dream his father shared with him when he was a child. Apparently he had, somehow, managed to pass that commitment along to his crew.  
  
Trip could see that his message had finally gotten across. "You're worth the risk, Cap'n and I'll gladly follow you everywhere, every damn time, and that's never gonna change, no matter what happens.  
  
Silence hung in the room as Trip's words settled into the captain's consciousness. John knew that he was human, that he was going to mess up sometimes, and in spite of that fact, or maybe because of it, his crew still believed in him, and more importantly Trip believed in him too. Archer felt as if a great weight had lifted from his heart and his guilt fled.  
  
Apparently his demons from the desert had been totally appeased because the captain caught himself smiling. "So I'm guessing with this little lecture, which is more than I've ever heard you speak in one sitting by the way, is your way of telling me that you don't regret what happened."  
  
"I don't regret a damn thing." Trip sounded positive, then he hesitated. "Well, I'm guessin' that I have to take that back. There is one thing that I'm regrettin'."  
  
"Oh?" Archer felt the guilt flood back to him. "What was that?"  
  
"I regret having to eat that blood soup!" Trip grimaced, and as intended the expression on his face made Archer laugh. "I'll take Pecan Pie any day."  
  
"Me too, buddy." John clapped Trip on the back and gestured to the table. "How about another piece right now?"  
  
"You're on." Trip cheerfully began to dish up a couple of slices of pie, handing the first one to Archer. The captain accepted it gratefully and this time, with his guilt banished for good, Archer was finally able to enjoy his dessert.  
  
Chef peeked into the dining room through the service entrance doorway. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help but catch the end of their conversation as he was a about to come in to clean up. Chef watched with pleasure as his superior officers enjoyed their dessert, noting that both men looked much better now than they had when the meal began. Chef closed the door feeling more than a little pleased with himself. It looked like this particular dinner was a success all the way around.  
  
Fini 


End file.
